You need this
by PuzzlePrince
Summary: Vlad and Plasmius have a short conversation of the 'I'll make you stronger' variety. Vlad doesn't appreciate his efforts. Sort of Striking Fear if you want to interpret the creepiness that way. Kiiind of an interpretation of what could have been a driving force for season 3.


There was a Plasmius-shaped silhouette crawling up his lounge room wall, and Vlad knew it had be the result of his long evening of drinking. He had enough scotch in his system to stupefy a family of meerkats, and that he was associating his inebriation with meerkats only encouraged the initial realization that perhaps he'd had one glass too many. He attempted to empty his current glass of scotch back into its bottle, failed, and sighed in resignation at the mess he'd created on both the counter and his hands.

"Now, that is just embarrassing, my dear," a distant voice chastised. Vlad jolted, jerking his head up in alarm. The shadow of Plasmius was still present on the wall, bobbing as if it were floating closer, gradually closing the space between them. He swallowed thickly and shakily set the empty glass down in the sink, reaching for a roll of scented paper towels.

Too many drinks. He would need to limit himself to a single bottle next time he hit the spirits cabinet.

"You're not imagining things." Clawed hands abruptly set themselves on his shoulders, constricting around the material of his suit when he cried out and attempted to flail away.

"Let go of me," he yelped unintelligibly, trying to turn his body. The hands merely pressed him forward until he was bent over the counter and began to rather gently knead his sore neck and shoulders.

"I'm only here to help you, dear host of mine," the voice reassured him. Though he got progressively tenser, his aggressors fingers continued to massage.

"I don't particularly want nor need this form of help," Vlad growled in protest. He struck out an arm, only to have it captured and pulled behind his back, pinned to his spine.

The turquoise face of Plasmius lowered itself into his peripheral vision. A wide, toothy smile was on its face, seeming all the more terrifying in the low light of his lounge room. Vlad inhaled sharply as it ran its clawed fingers through his hair, removing the tie he wore even while slumbering. Tossing it aside, his ghost half shoved Vlad further onto the counter with its hips.

"There. See? Much more relaxing." The fingers on his neck resumed massaging. "This would be easier with two hands, of course."

"I never expressed any desire for a masseuse!" Vlad snapped. Or rather, slurred. "If I wanted one, I would have hired one! I would have bought one — that's something I can do!"

"But this is so much nicer, Vlad. So much more intimate."

Vlad opened his mouth to release a slew of pastry-themed complaints, but instead inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. There were more pressing matters to be addressed before he yelled at his other half for interfering in his life. "I wasn't aware you could present yourself in this manner," he stated in hopes of piquing some sort of explanation.

Plasmius moved Vlad's hair out of the way of his shoulders so he could begin stroking there. "I have the occasional opportunity."

"What prompted this one?"

"Your recent interaction with Daniel. It's quite pathetic, you know. How you covet that child," the vampiric creature clucked its two-pronged tongue. "And your want for the mother is even more so. After twenty years, I'd hoped you would have better aspirations than that. But, no. You're still determined to present yourself as a pathetic, lonely old man—"

"Shut up!" Vlad rasped. His struggles to be free of his other half resumed.

"'Shut up'? That's all you can come up with? That's your only defense? See, even _you_ acknowledge how pathetic it is in your own way."

"Maddie will love me! She knows, deep down, that I'm better than the lumbering fool of a man she married!" His breaths became labored. "And Daniel — yes — he'll come to me too. He'll come voluntarily soon enough!"

Plasmius sounded all too amused by the outburst, "You really do want it _so_ badly, don't you." He leaned down again, so close that Vlad could feel the too-hot skin pressed to the shell of his ear. "And that is why I must help you get over your little obsession. Especially with that boy."

"I don't want your help!"

"You'll receive it regardless." Plasmius' nose buried itself just below his ear. He knew it was meant to be a soothing gesture, but it only served to make him uncomfortable. "I'm going to tear open this armor you've built yourself and pull you out, and you'll thank me later."

"The hell I will!"

"You're never going to reach your full potential how you are, Vlad. Chasing after an impossible dream. You need this."

"I don't—"

"_You need this._"

Panic rose up in him as Plasmius' grip on his arm wound tighter. "Are you ready?" the creature whispered in a voice that was deceptively soft.

"I don't want to do this—"

"They'll never love you, Vlad. Neither of them will ever love you."

"Shut up!" Vlad immediately cried. Despite the lack of oxygen in his lungs, Plasmius still managed to produce a convincing sigh.

"Hush and listen to me, Vladimir. You've spent almost _twenty three years_ pining over that woman, and she has not once shown any indication of wanting to reciprocate"

"But, she—"

"Oh, that's right! Excuse me! The only time she's shown any indication of wanting to reciprocate was to _manipulate_ you—"

"She — no — shut up!"

"Even when you outright state your affections, she rejects you. She's happy with Jack, she's moved on. You'll never be able to acquire her, Vladimir."

His mind whirred, trying to think of some sort of retort.

"She was never yours to have. Neither was that ghost child, Daniel. Do you really think he would turn against those who conceived him for someone like you? My, my, you really are naive."

"Shut up," Vlad tried again, quieter.

Plasmius only smiled against his skin, "The child rightfully loathes you. He wants nothing to do with you. I daresay he would even enjoy seeing you struggle, seeing you in pain. You've irrevocable ruined your relationship with him."

His hands shook uncontrollably, throat tightening, making it momentarily impossible to voice his refusal.

"Perhaps you could have had something resembling an 'uncle, nephew' relationship, but there's nothing salvageable there now. You've ruined any chance you had with Daniel. Give up on the boy. Perhaps you could acquire the lady through forceful means, but the lad will never submit to you."

"T- that's not— what I wanted—" he tried, but it came out as a low whine, barely audible.

"Oh, I know you're afraid of being alone. But don't be. I'll be there when you leave this world. I'll be waiting, and when you're on your death bed, taking your final breath, I'll be there to lead you to the afterlife. And then we'll have all the time in the world to get to know each other."

His mouth opened, absent of noise, lips moving around the words 'please stop'.

"You didn't really think you would go to heaven or the like, right? Do you think there's a God? A higher power?"

No no no, no, oh god. He didn't want to know this.

"I won't say there isn't something out there, Vlad, but they don't care for you. They wouldn't have wanted you even if you hadn't resorted to underhanded means to acquire almost everything you wanted in life."

He tried to push Plasmius away again, shivers wracking his body.

"Shh, calm down. I'm helping you," Plasmius soothed. "You became part of something bigger the day of that accident. Part of something they have no hand in."

Armor denigrating, piece by piece.

"Those who designed you don't want you."

Piece by piece.

"Maddie doesn't want you. Daniel doesn't want you."

Exposed.

"You've been abandoned, Vladimir. I'm all you have left."

—

At some point in the night, he'd vomited. It was currently what he was lying in. Vlad pushed himself out of the sick and rolled his palms over his stomach, groaning at the growing discomfort in his gut. Of all his pain and aches, the lack of food in his stomach hurt the worst.

Very gradually, he began to recall the previous nights conversation.

And immediately clawed his way up to his kitchen counter to expel what little remained in his stomach.


End file.
